


Never Doubt I Love

by owlish_peacock



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: A little bit of angst, Hidden Emotions, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, Triple Relationship, m/m/f
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 14:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14570535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlish_peacock/pseuds/owlish_peacock
Summary: Love doesn't fit in a box. It is everything and nothing.John Grey returns home from war to the delight of Jamie and Claire. But, John's heart burns for the couple, and he fears the emotions that come forth with his return.Disclaimer: M/M/F





	1. Chapter 1

The manor rose up behind the trees, its grey stones forged steep and pointed, like the peak of a mountain hidden within the thicket of forest. It had been years since John gazed upon the sight. He feared the change that that came about with the passing of time, but the building stood as it always had: sturdy, angular, vast. It was a safe place, a welcome place. He knew he would be received with arms and smiles, warmth and food.

The Frasers were a singular couple, both strong-willed and passionate, with sharp minds and sensitive hearts that made for interesting conversation. John had always been in awe of them. They carried a beauty and grace that anticipated the other, with a connection so attractive John couldn’t help but be sucked in. He wished he could find someone to connect with in such a way.

Some days, he wished to be connected to  _them…_

But, such thoughts were inappropriate when aimed toward friends. They had cared for them, first out duty, and then out of respect. To jeopardize their relationship for some silly, unbidden thoughts… Well, John didn’t want to dwell on the consequences.

Still, some nights he would wake and still feel Claire’s curls upon his abdomen, feel Jamie’s tongue on his lips…

Shaking the thoughts from his head, John continued on the path that led to the house and into the arms of friends.

***

“John? John!!” The voice rang across the sky, like Sunday morning church bells to cast out night’s darkness. She appeared before him, fingers stained and cheeks flushed, and just as lovely as ever.

“Claire, my dear.” John bent to make a leg, deftly grabbing her hand in the process. Kissing it, he whispered, “It’s been too long.”

“Yes!” Hands pulled him straight, embracing him in vice arms. “Yes, it has. Not hearing from you after the war… Well, we had feared the worst. Thank God you’re in one piece.”

“Haven’t you heard, Claire? I’m invincible.”

A laugh pealed from her lungs, echoing a sweet lullaby in his ears. “And thank the Lord you are! Have you seen Jamie yet? Oh, he’ll be so delighted to see you! Come!”

Jamie. The other half. If Claire was softness, Jamie was strength. If Claire was the soft breeze through leaves, Jamie was the scratching of ink on parchment. Both so different. Both incomplete without the other. They were heads and tails: opposite, but of the same coin.

John wished to put that coin in his pocket, and keep it for himself.

Her small, calloused hand slipped into his own, pulling him in with impressive strength.

They strode, hand-in-hand, through the lands of Lallybroch. Claire chattered amongst the birds, speaking of everything he missed:

_Jenny had twins last year, a boy and a girl. Michael and Janet. Sweet little things._

_Donas stepped on Jamie. Again. Reckless man. I told him to be careful with that demon horse._

_The potatoes are doing well. Thank the Lord. I don’t know what we’d eat without them._

John listened with one ear, comforted by the tone of her voice as he surveyed his surroundings. Lallybroch hadn’t changed much since his last visit. It still held the bustling greenery of a land well cared for. The crops swayed in the breeze, rustling a welcome in their own botanical language. To John, this was what a home should be: warm and familiar.

“Jamie!” Claire’s voiced pierced his reverie. “Jamie! Look!”

The sun rose over the hill in the form of Jamie’s bright locks. He stepped confidently through the tall grass, boots splattering mud. When he caught sight of John, a grin broke through. Jamie had a singular smile, full of secrets and mischief and joy. It fluttered John’s heart to see it.  

“John!”

He galloped toward them, graceful in his size, comfortable in the long lines of his body. He stopped short before them, close enough that John could count every blonde eyelash that framed his fire blue irises, every freckle that dotted his cheeks.

“It’s so good to see ye, man.”

Then, he was enveloped, protected by the strength simmering beneath Jamie’s arms. John became keenly aware of his own body: hand firmly latched in Claire’s, chest pressed against Jamie’s. He savored the moment, connected to both Frasers. Their touch ignited him, bringing forth feelings only produced in dreams.

But, all too soon, they were disentangled, becoming three separate bodies once more.

“Thank God yer alive! We had heard the war was a bloody one. Claire and I feared ye had perished.”

“Yes, yes. She said just as much. But I am here now, paying a visit to my dear friends.”

Claire trilled beside him. “Are you staying in Scotland for a while?”

He sighed. “I do need to return to London, but I thought I may stay for a few days. I was going to ride to Inverness this evening and–”

Twin frowns interrupted him. “Absolutely not. Ye’ll stay with us.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose–”

“Nonsense! We must all catch up, aye?  _Mo nighean_ , is the guest room clear?”

“It should be. I’ll go check. Oh, this will be grand! Like old times!”

Old times. The times of peace and spirits and laughter. When the three of them were merely children, drinking away troubles and conversing in secretive tones. John had missed that greatly.

“Like old times,” John repeated. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”


	2. Chapter 2

Strange. Everything seemed exactly as it always had  been. **  
**

The sconces hung precariously in the entryway, setting the cold stone ablaze with smokey warmth. The labyrinthian walkways were lined with vibrant canvases, painted by loving hands and fringed with time. John paused before his favorite: an affectionately crafted portrait that displayed the Laird and Lady of Broch Tuarach. They both stared serenely out at onlookers, as if the painted faces could truly see the passersby. He sighed. How long ago had this been created? Four years? Five years? They looked the same. Claire’s hair still flew away from the pins, lending her an endearing, frazzled air. Jamie’s smile still tugged at the dimple that creased his roguish chin.

John’s fingers caressed the frame, lingering upon the smooth brass like a lover’s touch.

“John, man. Where are ye?” Jamie’s baritone startled him, causing him to jump backward toward the opposite wall. He quickly hid his hands behind his back, straightening up before Jamie rounded the corner. “What are ye doing standing in the hallway?”

“I just… I wanted to see if everything was the same. If anything changed.”

“Nothing changes at Lallybroch, John. Ye ken that.”

Jamie spoke in jest, but John found himself silently agreeing. Although Lallybroch had physically changed throughout the years—the stones grew dingy, the tapestries had faded—it still exuded the same comfort that beckoned John all those years ago. The heather still grew thick on the outskirts of the land. The fireplaces still roared in their sooty crevices. The same floorboards squeaked under pressure. But, more than that, it was a feeling. The warmth that emanated from the walls wasn’t from the fires, or the quilts thrown haphazardly over chairs, but from a sense of belonging John had never felt anywhere else.

He thought—of dirty stones, of creaky wood, of Jamie, of Claire—and wondered to himself: Perhaps the more things change, the more they stay the same. The physicality of Lallybroch had no standing against its consistent homeliness.

“John! Are ye coming?” The Scottish burr broke through his foggy thoughts again, leading him into the present.

“Yes, yes! Of course!”

***

Claire’s silhouette was backlit by the small torches struggling to burn within the hearth. She turned at their approach, decanter in hand.

“Can I offer you fine men some whisky?”

She sauntered toward the men, swirling the liquid enticingly in its glass home.

“Do ye think we’d say no to that,  _mo nighean_?” Jamie led John to the armchairs around the fire, as Claire poured the whisky in three glasses. She handed one to John.

“Well, Claire. I never thought I’d see the day where you _served_ anyone.” Despite all her demure, Claire was a tiger. Stronger and smarter than most men he knew, she was an intimidating presence that could break a man’s arm and set it in the same breath.

“It’s not  _serving_. It’s called being a gracious hostess. And I’d only do it for you, John.” She threw a wink over her shoulder, before giving Jamie his glass, along with a small peck.

“Thank ye, love.”

“Of course.” She settled herself in the chair across from them. “So, John. Have you gone to see your family since the war’s end?”

“Not yet. That’s where I was heading. Just so they know I’m alive. But…” He saw sympathetic nods in his periphery. The Frasers knew of his tense relationship with his family. A disappointment to his father, an annoyance to his brother. The only one that truly cared for him was his mother, and she was gone 10 years.

“Well, you could always send a letter. There’s no need to go to them.”

“They’re family. I feel I owe it to them.”

“Ye dinna owe them anything,” Jamie interjected. “No’ after the way they treated ye.”

“Still, perhaps… I owe it to myself. To show them I succeeded.”

“If ye say.”

Conversation faded, the sound of clinking glass and delicate sipping echoed in the sitting room. Not awkward, though. I had never been awkward between the three of them. No, it was a sweet silence, allowing the trio to enjoy their thoughts in the company of friends.

His thoughts were interrupted by a small, pale hand entering his vision, and resting upon his lap.

“John. You’re always welcome here. You know that, don’t you?”

He glanced at Claire, her eyes impossibly wide and sincere. Looking for a less intrusive gaze, he turned toward Jamie. But his eyes were the same. Too true. Too blue.

The two of them would break his heart.

“Yes, of course. I know that.”

Another hand, this one larger and placed upon his shoulder.

“This is yer true home, ye ken.”

“Yes, yes. I know. I’m…” John became  flustered with both Frasers touching him. “I know.”

He felt the walls close in on him, the air became thick. His eyes never rested, quivering from whisky amber irises to their stormy ocean partners.

Their breath lingered upon his skin, smelling of spirits and sweetness and everything he desired…

“I apologize. Jamie. Claire. I’ve… I’m quite tired. If you’ll excuse me…”

“Of course! The extra bedroom is made up for ye. Do ye need us to walk ye up?”

“No, no. I quite remember. I shall see you in the morning?”

“Aye. Good evening to ye.”

“Goodnight, John,” Claire interjected.

“Goodnight Jamie. Claire.”

John rushed up the stairs, two at a time, heart racing. Cursing his cowardice.

***

“Do you think he knows?”

“Who? Know what?”

“John. About… how we feel.”

In the recesses of the Laird’s bedroom, Claire and Jamie could speak freely about the ponderings in their minds.

“I dinna ken, love. Maybe. We’ve done all we can without outright telling him. Perhaps he doesna feel the same. Ye saw him run up the stairs earlier this evening.”

“Yes. You’re right. It’s a bit disappointing, isn’t it? I just always thought…”

“Aye. Me too.”

The couple sat, wistfully dreaming of a world where the three of them could live in love. A world where his yellow hair mixed with theirs upon the pillows. A world where his long fingers fit perfectly into their hands.  

But, it was just a dream. A faraway hope.

“Come now, dinna look so sad.”

Claire chanced a smile. “Well, Mr. Fraser. Perhaps you should cheer me up.”

 _Coy little minx._  “Oh, like that is it?”

“Why, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He pulled her hard against him, pushing her shift from her shoulders in one movement. It fluttered to their feet, flimsy as a cloud.

She gasped, whether in surprise or desire, Jamie wasn’t sure. But, he didn’t much care. She stood before him, bare, lit up like a candle behind the curtains. And he had to have her.

Pulling off his shirt and belt, he wrapped her in his strong embrace, and together, they tried to forget their missing piece.


	3. Chapter 3

Dreams flickered behind John’s eyelids: of hopes and desires held at arm’s length. This was the time when he could truly set his mind free. He was always so careful, so particular. His actions, his words, even his thoughts: monitored at all times. But, his dreams whisked him off to places of freedom, where he was truly himself.

_ This dream was a simple one. He found himself enveloped in the warmth of soft blankets and even softer skin. He reached out to either side, his fingers tangled in calloused hands. Glancing to his right, John’s vision was obscured by a storm cloud of curls. To his left, storm cloud eyes. They crinkled with mirth. _

_ “Is she still asleep?” Jamie asked, peeking over John’s body at his wife.  _

_ “Yes. Quite so.” _

_ “She’s always been a late sleeper. She would sleep all day if she didna have work to do.” He chuckled quietly. “Both of ye stay here. I’ll go get breakfast.” _

_ Jamie stood, naked as the day his was born. Every line of his body was straight and perfectly formed, all angles and flat planes. John couldn’t help but stare.  _

_ “Did ye no get enough last night?” Jamie caught John’s eye over his shoulder, blinking owlishly in his attempt at a wink. “I’ll be right back.” _

_ John turned on his side, facing Claire. Reaching up, he brushed the curls away from her face. Her cheeks twitched at the tickling sensation, but she had yet to open her eyes. Her own hand appeared from beneath the blankets, reaching up to scratch at John’s stubble. _

_ “Go back to sleep, John.” _

_ “It’s time for breakfast, love.” _

_ She moaned, stretching languidly. “Fine.” She leaned over, kissing John soundly. Her lips were soft and pliant, and she tasted of berries. _

Then, he awoke, feeling loss. Quite a mundane dream, but it was everything John wanted. And everything he didn’t have.

He wished to live in that dream forever.

***

“How did ye sleep, John?”

“Fine, fine.” John kept his eyes on the bannock in his hands. Otherwise, Jamie would know he was lying.

“Great! So, Claire and I were thinking—“

“Who wants parritch?” Claire swung through the dining room doors, gracefully carrying three bowls upon her arms. “Sorry we don’t have anything fancier, John. We weren’t expecting company…”

“It’s fine, Claire. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

“I’m not sure about delicious,” she said, plopping down next to Jamie. “But it’s breakfast.” 

“Anyway,” Jamie spoke through a mouthful. “As I was saying, Claire and I were thinking about going for a ride today. Would ye like to join us?”

“If the weather holds, it should be a beautiful day,” Claire interjected.

“Yes, yes. That sounds lovely. Thank you.”

“Well, we werena going to leave without ye.” Sun gleamed from Jamie’s smile, incredibly wide and sincere.

A mirroring smile adorned Claire’s face. “Well, then. Let’s finish breakfast, and saddle up!”

***

Claire was right. The day was bright and brisk, the light breeze curling its fingers around their hair. John lifted his face toward the sun, eager to inhale every possible ray.

“Are ye ready, John?” Jamie yelled from within the stables.

“Yes!” He patted the rump of Georgie, his faithful copper stallion.

“Aye! Good!” The couple emerged from the building atop their respective horses. 

Jamie rode Donas, a temperamental fellow as black as night and as mean as the devil himself. John knew to keep his distance. 

Claire was atop Epona, a dappled mare as sweet as she was beautiful. John supposed Claire and Epona had that in common.

They were disguised royalty in their homespun and wool, straight-backed upon their horses. Their eyes were benevolent. Their faces: beautiful. John wondered if there was ever a king and queen more lovely than this simple Laird and his Lady.

He didn’t think so, but perhaps he was biased. 

“So, where are we riding?”

It was Claire that turned to him, wild curls floating against the wind. “Wherever we want.”


	4. Chapter 4

They rode hard, their bodies swaying in time to the dull hoofbeats upon the earth. There was laughter, pure joy at the freedom of it all. John couldn’t contain the excitement that bubbled within his chest. Was this what liberation felt like?

It was a trueness he had never experienced.

“Where are we going?” He yelled, his voice muffled against the wind. How long had they been riding? And how much farther would they go?

“Ye’ll see!”

***

He heard before he saw: crashing waves against solid stone. Surely they hadn’t ridden  _ that  _ far…

But they had. Beyond the tree line, John could see craggy cliffs and the horizon against the sea.

“Where are we?”

But he received no answer from the Frasers as they quickly drew closer to the roaring sound. The trees began to thin, and John was taken aback by what was in front of him.

No words, no language could do justice to the landscape that surrounded them. The stood upon grassy cliffs, the sea greeting the rocks passionately below them. John felt the cool mist spraying his face and the salty air ruffling his hair. He could never have imagined such a place, even in the sweetest of dreams. 

“Do ye like it? ‘Tis one of our favorite places.”

John glanced back at the couple as they remained a few paces behind him. “Like it? It’s incredible…”

“Good,” John heard the smile in Jamie’s voice. “Now, come. Let us hobble the horses, and we can enjoy it properly.”

***

Claire had wandered off, though the men could see her silhouette where they sat near the cliff's edge.

“She is probably looking for some wee plants. Ye ken how she is.”

John did know. Claire always had a preternatural sense of nature. He heard Jamie tease her sometimes, calling her his little wood nymph. John didn’t think that was too far off the mark.

“Yes, I do know. She’s quite something else.” John felt Jamie’s peculiar look, but did not dare face it. “So, how did you two find this place?”

“I dinna ken, really. I suppose just a benefit of exploring.”

“Incredible views.”

“Aye.”

The two sat in silence. A comfortable silence, where friends revel in simply being near one another. A silence where they took in the sights before them while their minds wandered aimlessly. John could sit like that forever.

“Look what I’ve found!” Claire broke the silence with her excited yell, holding up a small leafy plant in victory.

“ _ Mo nighean!”  _ Jamie’s shout answered back. “Ye ken we dinna know what that is!”

She gathered her skirts before paddling toward the men. “It’s a bog myrtle! Good for cuts and such. Also keeps the bugs at bay. I haven’t been able to find one for a while!”

Claire’s childlike excitement endeared John, and he smiled broadly at the small woman before him. “Well done, Claire.”

“Thank you kindly, John.” She curtseyed teasingly before falling to the ground beside him. “And what are you two doing up here?”

“Just admiring the views.”

“They  _ are _ quite lovely…” John turned to Claire to find her eyes lingering upon his face. When he caught her eye, she merely smiled shyly.

_ Was she…? _

Glancing to his right to see if her husband had noticed, John found Jamie’s eyes upon him as well.

_ Were they…? _

No. The world wasn’t so kind, and dreams were merely dreams. Whatever John thought he saw was a mere projection of his thoughts. The fire deep within their gemstones eyes was a hallucination, wishful thinking.

“Weel, we should probably leave soon. The sun is starting to set. We dinna want to be caught in the dark!”

The three were bathed in a golden glow, and they relished in the peace of a day’s end.

***

John, Jamie, and Claire emerged onto Lallybroch’s property at last light. After settling the horses in the stable, they made their way toward the blue-tinged house.

“What a great day!” Claire said, leading the men through the threshold.

“Aye. Did ye enjoy yerself, John?”

“Absolutely. I’m glad I came.”

“We are, as well.”

The trio came upon the stairs leading up to their respective bedrooms. The time for  _ good nights  _ had come.

“Thank you,” John began. “I had a lovely time.”

“Aye. ‘‘Twas no trouble.”

John felt small fingers squeeze his forearm. Claire spoke up. “If you need us, John, you know where our room is.”

He chanced a glance at Claire, her eyes wide and pleading. Pleading for what? “Oh. Yes. Of course. Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

***

_ You know where our room is. _

What did she mean by that? John hoped, but… No. It couldn’t be.

Could it? 

He tossed in his borrowed bed, turning her words over in his mind.

Surely not. But her eyes were undeniable. He remembered the look he received from the couple earlier in the day. 

Did they both…?

Surely not.

John found that sleep evaded him. He couldn’t help but picture the Frasers, sleeping restfully upon mountains of pillows and quilts. Intertwined. Bare.

Rising, John reached for his dressing robe flung precariously on the corner chair. He padded through the halls aimlessly. He knew where their bedroom was. Knew it was the last door on the left.

_ If you need us, John, you know where our room is. _

Did he need them? He had needed them for years. Wanted them since the day they met.

Was John really going to do this? Put his heart and body on the line?

A stupid question with a simple answer.

Yes. Yes, he was.


	5. Chapter 5

John’s fist hovered above the wooden door. What the hell was he doing? This was a mistake, brought about by fantasies and unrequited desires. Tucking his tail, John turned, ready to lick his wounds in the comfort of his own room.

“John?” Claire’s voice chimed above the roaring insecurities in his mind. Cursing silently, he spun back around to face the door.

She was a vision. The firelight lit the edges of her figure, draped in a shift and lace shawl. He felt his heartbeat skitter in his chest.

“Hello, Claire.”

“What are you doing?” There was no accusation in her voice, only concerned curiosity.

“Oh! I...um...I...only...I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, no.” The pause was thick. “Well, would you like to join us?”

John spluttered. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, well… Jamie and I… We’re night owls, ourselves.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, yes. Oh, Jamie won’t mind if you join us! Come in!” She pulled the door wider, the orange hearth-light spilling into the hallway.

“Oh, no. I…” The look in her eyes told John that it wasn’t up for discussion. Waving her arm in welcome, she ushered him inside. He couldn’t refuse.

John had seen the Laird and Lady’s chambers before: small glimpses through the open door. But, he had never truly entered the room before. That just simply wasn’t done.

Standing in it now, he couldn’t conjure a more beautiful or peaceful room. The walls were lined with thick tapestries, in deep, soothing blues and greens. On the left side on the room stood a proud, luxurious bed. On the right, the hearth and chairs. This was where Jamie sat, his curls mirroring the flames before him. He turned when he heard John’s footsteps, his face splitting handsomely into a genuine smile. 

“John!”

John’s heart stopped.

“Hullo, Jamie.”

“Come! Sit! Here…” Jamie rose, offering his chair.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t…” John flapped his arms, willing the redhead to sit back down.

“Nay, I insist.” Jamie waved his arm, the same gesture demonstrated by his wife mere moments before.

Sighing, John accepted reluctantly. He sat slowly, the cushions still warm from the larger man’s body. Claire landed gracefully in the matching chair on his right, while Jamie made himself comfortable in the old wooden rocker on his left.

“What’s keeping ye up, man?” The red haired man grabbed the whisky decanter off the table beside him.

“Mind’s racing. That’s all.”

“Aye. I ken that feeling.” Jamie swirled amber liquid into a glass, before handing it to John. He took a lingering sip, sighing blissfully when the earthy taste touched his tongue. Whisky and the Frasers. John concluded that there was never a lovelier combination.

“Do you two remember when,” Claire began. “We accidentally stole a horse?”

And with that, any awkwardness John felt dissipated with comfortable conversation.

“We? If I recall correctly,  _ ye _ stole the horse, Sassenach.”

“Well…” 

“You were so drunk, Claire!” John interrupted. “I’m surprised you remember that night!”

“I don’t really! I only remember what you two bastards told me! And I brought the horse back the next day!”

The three friends erupted into laughter, giddy on whisky and good company.

“Cheers, then.” Claire raised her glass into the air, the firelit whisky reflecting her eyes. “To nights we’ll never forget.”

“Cheers.”

“Slainte.”

Their glasses sang together in the wide room, and they drank deeply.

“Well, it’s getting late. Thank you both for entertaining me.”

Two hands landed on John’s shoulders: one small, one large. He glanced to his left, finding passion in the depth of his friends blue eyes. Whipping his head around, he found the same look in the brunette’s eyes.

“You don’t have to go yet, John.”

“Aye, stay a bit longer.”

And how could he refuse these beautiful souls anything they desired? How could he refuse himself what  _ he  _ desired?

Why would he want to? 

“Okay.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!!!!!!!!

__

“John… I… We need to be honest with you.”

John was still staring at Claire, the unshed tears in her eyes holding him hostage.

“You see… I… We… Well…” The words stuck in her throat. Claire Fraser at a loss for words? Unheard of.

“Is everything alright?”

“Aye,” Jamie’s voice rose from behind him. “Everything’s fine. Claire is just—“

“John.” A deep exhale. “We have been friends for a very long time. The three of us.”

“Yes…” John wasn’t sure where the conversation was leading. “And I value that friendship. Above everything.”

“We know that, John. But… It's…  _more_  than that, isn’t it?”

Surely she didn’t mean… The Englishman could feel the beat of his heart strong beneath his shirt. He wondered briefly if the Frasers could hear it.

“Pardon me?” John choked, feigning innocence.

“It’s alright. You aren’t alone. We–Jamie and I–we feel the same, you know.”

Thoughts flew from John’s mind, unable to process the words. Surely it was just a misunderstanding of meaning that caused his heart to stop.

“Claire, I’m not entirely sure what–”

The woman’s mouth swallowed John’s words, erasing them from his thoughts. It was a tender pressure, soft and chaste. But, John felt his blood boil and his limbs paralyze. He was under her spell, stricken with so much want and need that his body could not respond to the increasing urgency of the kiss.

Perhaps it was a second–perhaps an hour–but the two finally broke apart with gasps of air. John pulled away quickly, only to drown in the molten gold of Claire’s eyes, dripping with concern.

“John? I’m so sorry. I just assumed that… That you felt the same. I… shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Did she take John’s surprise for disgust? Oh, no. That simply wouldn’t do.

“John, did you hear me? I’m so–”

It was his turn to interrupt her. Grasping her face with both hands, he crushed her to him, pressing his lips firmly to hers. She squealed in shock, but the sound quickly pitched to become a low moan that reverberated through John’s body. He opened his mouth to her, wanting to breathe her in, to take her completely. She met his open mouth with her own, tentative tongues dancing.

In the headiness of it all, John almost didn’t feel the large hand that landed heavily upon his shoulder. Almost.

“Mind if I join ye two?” The low burr tickled John’s ear, and he felt the warm breath upon his skin. “I dinna want to miss out on all the fun.”

Without an answer, Jamie’s lips pressed lightly against John’s neck. The Englishman could feel the rough stubble and hard jaw against his shoulder, so different from the softness of the woman in front of him.

“I’ve often imagined this.” A nip on the ear cause a shiver to run down John’s body. “You, between Claire and I. Where ye belong.”

Jamie spoke with a growl, the end of his sentence punctuated by his teeth on sensitive flesh. John groaned loudly, breaking his kiss with Claire.

“We should…” Her breathy whisper penetrated the hazy thoughts of her companions. “Get a bit more comfortable. Wouldn’t you men agree?”

She was teasing them, the firelight glinting in her eyes.

Jamie spoke first. “Oh, aye, Sassenach. Sounds like a bonnie idea.”

***

It was a standoff. The three stood in a triangle, eyes locked on each other. Who would be the first to break the spell?

It was Claire. Bold, beautiful Claire, her body shadowed beneath her shift. Her long fingers stretched toward her neck, loosening the tie that held the garment in place. Eyes flickered to both her men before pulling the shift from her shoulders, the fabric fluttering to the ground.

John was sure he’d never see a woman comparable to Claire. Pleasantly curved and pale, like an old sculpture of Aphrodite.

“Well… fair’s fair.” A wicked glint shone in her eyes. “Who’s next?”

Jamie’s mischievous grin matched his wife’s. He reached for the buttons of his breeks, shimmying until they pooled at his feet. He stood in just a shirt, his legs muscled and thick.

John felt emboldened. “Your shirt too, Jamie.”

“Says the man that’s fully dressed,” the Scot teased, but did as he was bid.

Where Claire was fair, Jamie was golden, his body sunkissed from years out of doors. The lines of his body were long and hard, shadows filling in where his muscles dimpled the skin. Blue eyes flickered toward John, crinkled with barely contained passion.

“Yer turn.”

Time seemed to slow as John carefully undressed before the Frasers. Cool air met his exposed skin, pebbling beneath the briskness. Every nerve ending was frayed; John could feel everything. The slight warmth of the fire behind him. The heavy breathing that tickled his hair. The scratching of wool as he lifted the shirt from his body.

There was a pause, a moment of reflection. Every pair of eyes roamed the bodies of the other two. It was incredibly arousing: bare, but not touching.

The three came to an unspoken consensus before colliding, becoming a tangle of bodies in the middle of the room. Hands flew, squeezing, testing. John sought out Jamie’s lips, kissing him roughly. His long red locks tickled the other man’s face. Claire sidled up to the men, gripping them both in her small hands.

They all moaned simultaneously.

Not wanting to leave her out, John reached for her, gently tracing a breast with his fingers. She threw her head back, and Jamie broke the kiss to attack her throat. John followed his lead.

The sound of panting and smacking lips filled the room.

“Bed…” Claire groaned.

The stumbled together, not wanted to break apart, collapsing on the over-sized Laird’s bed. Claire sat facing the men, both hands reaching to caress their lengths. John wondered briefly at her ambidexterity, but that though soon fled his mind. He leaned closer the woman, eye level with her breasts. Testing, his tongue slowly circled the pebbled nipple, eliciting a loud moan from her. Through his ministrations, he threw his hand to the right, helping Claire work Jamie’s cock.

“Ahhhh…”

They worked in tandem, bringing their red-haired man to the brink over and over again. But they would show no mercy. Not yet.

“Damn it, ye two!” Jamie’s complaint rang through the room. “John, lie down on yer back.”

The authoritative tone made John painfully hard, and he did as he was told.

“Claire, use yer mouth on him.”

She grinned, climbing up his body until she was eye-level with his length. A swipe of the tongue, and John almost lost himself.

“Do ye like that, John? Do ye like my wife’s mouth on ye?”

John could barely concentrate on the words, his mind focused on the warm, wet mouth that surrounded him. “Y…y…yes…”

“Good.” Jamie began pumping himself at the sight: Claire’s arse in the air, John lying prone beneath her. He made his way to John, the blond man’s lidded gray eyes following his every move.

“Will ye use yer mouth on me, then?”

Without pause, John gripped him, bringing him into his mouth. Jamie braced his hands on Claire’s arse, her head bobbing with her movements. He moaned as a tongue swirled around the tip, bolts of pleasure shooting through his body. He couldn’t. Not yet…

Removing himself from John’s mouth, Jamie positioned himself behind Claire. One, two, three licks to her slit had her mewling, the sound vibrating pleasurably through John’s body.

In one swift motion, he entered his wife, the impact felt in all three of them. He thrust hard and fast as Claire’s movements became more frantic. None of them would last much longer. Hands gripped: Jamie’s on Claire’s hips, Claire’s on John’s hips, John’s in Claire’s hair.

It was too much… too much…

John came first, finishing in Claire’s mouth. Panting, he watched the Frasers at their end. Jamie was rough, eyes closed, and Claire met his every thrust. She collapsed, trembling, and he followed soon after.

***

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”

“Like what?” Two pairs of inquisitive eyes glanced John’s way, heavy-lidded and glassy from exhaustion.

It was simple. It always had been.

“Whole.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW WARNING. J/J/C. THREESOME.

John found himself in a field. More of a meadow, really, with bright wildflowers and a wall of trees along the perimeter. The air was pleasantly brisk, and the sun warmed the bite of the wind.

Taking stock of his body, he found himself completely unclothed. Despite his modest nature, this fact didn’t bother him. Quite contrary, he languished in it, stretching his stiff bones against the prickles of the grass. 

Gentle caresses tickled his bare skin, the delicate wings of dragonflies beating upon him. He watched them, multicolored and graceful as they descended down his body. First his lips, then his chest, then his stomach… Slowly dipping in pleasurable waves.

The swarm metamorphosed, clinging together as they transitioned: A fox took their place, unusually large and glistening crimson. 

_ I’m dreaming,  _ he thought as the world around him became less real. The trees were too large, too green. The sky was midnight, but bright light still glowed.

Garnering his attention, the beast rested his head upon John’s navel, peering at him with almond eyes. He opened his jaw, flashing rows of perfect fangs. But, no growl or hiss exited the creature’s mouth. Instead, a voice rumbled through him, deep and warmly familiar.

“Will ye no wake?”

The vibrations from the beast’s throat shook John’s body, and his eyes shot open toward the streaming sunlight.

_ A dream… _

Not completely, though, as his fox companion had turned into another red-haired creature gently kissing his stomach.

“G’mornin’.”

John’s eyes flitted around the room. The Fraser’s bedroom. And he was tangled in the Fraser’s sheets, with Jamie Fraser himself upon him.

He mentally crossed himself, and thanked whatever deity had led him to this moment.

John threaded his fingers through Jamie’s curls, enjoying their soft, springy texture. With that encouragement, the redhead kissed his way up the blond’s body until their noses touched. John could feel every line of Jamie as he rested against him. Strong and solid and undoubtedly ready...

“Good morning to you, as well.”

The two men smiled at each other, lips stretched as they kissed. John reached his hand to the right, searching, but found the bed empty.

“Where’s Claire?”

“She’ll be downstairs, making breakfast. She woke early, and decided we could all use a hearty meal… Canna fault her observations.”

“Should we go help?”

“Nay. She told me we have to stay here. Ordered me really. I’m no help in the kitchen. I suppose it’s good one of us kens how to make a meal.”

_ Us.  _ The three of them. That simple word brought about flitters in his stomach, and a heavy beat in his heart.

_ Us. _

“Besides,” Jamie interrupted John’s thoughts. “I had other plans for this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Aye…”

Warm mouth and soft curls tickled John’s torso as his companion slowly descended his body.

“Jamie…?”

“Shh…” His breath blew the hair around John’s navel, causing him to twitch at the sensitivity. But such movements did not stop Jamie, as he ventured lower, lower…

He was engulfed by warmth, the dampness of Jamie’s mouth sending shockwaves through his spine. Threading his hands through amber curls, John arched up, straining for friction. For release. Jamie’s tongue swirled around John’s cock, and his length twitched with every lick and bob. Jamie sucked hard on the tip, his lips puckering. A moan rose from John’s chest, threatening to tear him apart. Jamie mirrored the sound, causing pleasurable vibrations to fill John’s body from tip to temple.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

Fingers joined mouth in a dangerous dance. One hand pumped him slowly, while the tongue continued its pattern along his length. Up. Down. Up. Down. Suck. Lick.

“Ye taste so good.”

John felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He needed more. Now.

“Faster.”

He felt rather than heard Jamie’s chuckle. “O’ course.”

His efforts doubled. One arm braced John’s hips against the bed, holding him in place. The other continued stroking John.

“Look at me.”

He couldn’t. Couldn’t open his eyes, so overwhelmed with sensation as he was. But that would not do for Jamie.

“Look at me!”

John’s eyes flew open at the roughness in his voice, and stared into the icy eyes at his hip. Slowly—so slowly—Jamie lowered his mouth once more upon him.

It was too much—tongue, fingers, eyes—and John strained against the hand at his waist. His peak came, hard and loud and quick, finishing in Jamie’s throat. He swallowed quickly before stretching himself next to his satisfied companion.

Fingers trailed over John’s chest as his heart regulated itself.

“Good morning to ye,” the redhead teased.

John gasped for air before responding. “Yes. Indeed.”

***

The door creaked open as the two men lounged nude on the bed. Claire entered, her hair extra disbelieved, and a translucent dressing gown sashed around her waist. In her arms she held a tray—breakfast. Bannocks and honey, ham, eggs, potatoes…

She noticed the two relaxing, and a grin spread across her face.

“Well, don’t you two look like cats that got the cream.”

“I dinna ken what ye’re talking about, Sassenach.”

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t believe him at all. “You look like you could use some sustenance.”

John’s voice piped: “Yes, please,” while Jamie teased: “But I’ve already eaten…”

She scoffed, but placed the tray in John’s lap nonetheless. Sitting beside him, she bumped their hips together to get him to make room. He found himself sandwiched between the Frasers.

“Did you sleep well, John?” Claire asked, her mouth full of bread. 

“Best night’s sleep I’ve ever had.” It was the truth, too. He had never been more exhausted or more comfortable than he was the night before.

“Worn out, were ye?” John tossed a bannock right in Jamie’s smirking face, causing a laugh to burst from Claire’s chest. “Weel, that wasna verra nice…”

“Here,” Claire offered. “I’ll kiss it to make it better.” She stretched across John’s body to plant a short, chaste kiss on Jamie’s lips. He feel her breasts against his chest through her thin clothing. “There.”

After the three cleared the entire tray, Jamie threw it on the floor and out of the way.

“I’ve been thinking…” He stood, as proud and as bare as the day he was born.

“Yes…?” Claire popped onto her knees in curiosity

The large man circled the bed, stalking. A predator. His muscles were taut and poised: fists clenched, thighs thickened, stomach dimpled. Dawn light glistened off the hair on his head and body, glinting scarlet and gold like a candle. He was about to strike, his heels lifting from the ground, eyebrows furrowed in concentration…

And then he turned, making his way toward the chair across from the bed. Sitting heavily, he steepled his fingers and spread his legs. 

“I want to watch. The both of ye.” His voice was husky and demanding.

John’s heart spiked at his words. Did he mean…?

“Watch us do what?” Claire shrugged a shoulder, allowing her dressing gown to fall partially. One ivory breast peeked out from the cloth, nipple hard and straining.

“Ye ken fine what I want.” 

They did, indeed.

John, feeling powerful from the morning’s activities, began to run his lips along Claire’s exposed shoulder. He could hear the catch in her breath.

“Aye. Like that.”

John chanced a glance at Jamie, whose fingertips were caressing his cock. He groaned at the sight, pressing his teeth against Claire’s neck. She moaned in response, her hand reaching backward to grasp John’s thigh.

Needing more of her skin, John fumbled with the sash around her waist. Loosened, the thin fabric fell open and pooled around her waist. His hands roamed the newly exposed flesh, caressing and groping. So lost in Claire’s body, John almost forgot about the set of eyes upon them.

Almost. 

Small, muffled grunts emitted from the redhead’s mouth as he lightly touched himself.

John flipped Claire around, pressing her back upon the mattress. Her legs opened freely at the nudge of his knees. Her bore down on her, attacking her lips.

Mouths opened. Breath mingled. John could feel her heartbeat beneath her breast; it echoed within his own chest. Her body grew warm beneath his, and slickness began to pool between them.

John descended Claire’s body, his tongue dancing upon the velvet skin of her neck, her shoulders, her breasts… He pulled a nipple into his mouth, teasing it gently with his teeth. Her back arched off the bed, taut as a bow string. Encouraged, he dipped further, tickling her navel and kissing her hip bones. Even further still, his face was level with her center. Glancing up, he found Claire looking at him, propped up on her elbows. Her eyes were glassy and heavily-lidded. Behind her, Jamie began pumping his length in earnest, his mouth half-open. John felt himself harden further.

Lowering himself upon Claire’s body again, John pressed a small kiss on her pubic bone. And then again, a bit lower... A needy cry burst from her chest, and she pushed her hips upward. Happy to oblige, John drug his tongue up and down her slit, making sure to pay careful attention to where she needed him most.

She was salty and slick and all encompassing, and John was at her precipice. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and he could feel her moans as they vibrated down her body.

Unable to control himself any longer, John crawled up her body, positioning himself to enter her…

“No.” Jamie’s voice rang loudly across the room. He was still gripping himself tightly, almost purple with want. “Flip over, Claire. I want to look ye both in the eye.”

She did as she was told, landing on all fours. He arse arched upward, rubbing gently on John’s cock.

Jesus, her arse was round…

Gripping the pliable flesh, he entered her from behind, and three separate moans echoed simultaneously.

Claire and John raised their heads, looking into Jamie’s eyes; they were glazed and intently watching them. The sensory overload spurred John, and he began rocking his hips against Claire. She squeaked. John chuckled at the sound, and continued to pound against her.

“Harder!”

Doing as he was bid, he grasped a handful of her curls, tugging gently at the scalp, and slammed into her once. Twice. Three times.

And she cried, her walls quivering around him. Her arms shook as she tried to keep herself upright, but the intensity of her climax made her unsteady and she fell to her elbows.

John was straining against his own pleasure, wanting to make this last.

Large, slick hands caressed John’s back; he hadn’t realized Jamie had moved. He was behind him now, cock hard against his back as his lips trailed down his shoulder. John writhed at the new sensation. Jamie’s oiled fingers tickled down his spine to end at his arse; his palm flexed against the skin, his fingertips bruising.

“Is this alright?” 

Did he mean--?

Jamie’s fingers drew circles on his buttocks, an unspoken answer to an unspoken question.

“God, yes! Please, yes!” John’s vocabulary has been reduced to monosyllables.

“Thank God.” It was merely a whisper, but John felt the words caress his hair. “Hold still for a moment.”

John’s hips had been quivering, his cock still inside Claire. Against all instincts, he stilled.

Jamie was oiled and ready, his stiff length wedged in the cleft of John’s arse. He moved closer, his tip teasing John.

“Bend over.”

John curved until his chest was flush with Claire’s back. He felt Jamie, centimeter by centimeter, as he pushed slowly…carefully. John sunk his teeth into Claire’s shoulder as discomfort gave way to pleasure; she moaned at the sharp bite on her skin.

Enveloped and enveloping, he was crushed between the bodies of the Frasers. Like links on a chain, they connected perfectly.

John moved first, his hips slowly thrusting into Claire as his body adjusted to the simultaneous penetrating and penetration. Claire met him thrust for thrust, the flesh of her arse smacking against his hip bones.

Then, Jamie joined with his own gyrations. With John’s every inward thrust, Jamie’s hips tilted backward. And when John pulled out of Claire, Jamie slammed into him. He couldn’t stop the scream that came from his chest.

It was a dance, choreographed for their pleasure. The movement of one affected the others, like dominoes. Jamie’s left hand remained on John’s hip, while the other reached for Claire’s breast; her body vibrated at the new sensation. John’s hand flew backward to grasp Jamie’s flank. 

He couldn’t last much longer, not with the myriad of sensations that overtook his body. Hoping to take the two with him, he began swinging his pelvis in abandon: his hip bones bruising Claire’s rear and his haunches slamming against Jamie’s legs.  

He stretched his arm around Claire’s body, landing between her legs. Caressing her there, she bucked wildly against him, another climax taking her over. John followed soon after, spilling himself into her while his moans echoed off the walls.

Two more thrusts from Jamie, and he exploded behind him, beads of sweat dripping into John’s back.

The three disentangled their slick bodies, collapsing on the bed. Jamie was the first to rise, searching for towels to aid in the clean up. He threw squares of linen on the bed for them.

Messes abated, they slumped against the pillows.

“Can we just lie here awhile?” Jamie breathed through gasps.

And so they did, snuggled spoon fashion with Claire in the middle. Her small arms gripped him tightly to her front.

“I’m so glad you found us John.” Claire’s voice whispered in his ear. It was the last thing he heard before exhaustion took over.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
